Chapter Thirty-Eight
Evan
Mabel’s house sat tucked behind her restaurant, as much the heart of the valley as the woman herself. There was no porch light on tonight, only the soft, buttery glow from the kitchen window and the smell of a pot-roast whiffing through the screen door like a warm invitation.
I parked at the bottom of the drive, cutting the engine so the gravel would not announce my arrival. I needed a minute. My palms were damp, and the small velvet box in my pocket felt like it was made of lead.
She opened the door before I could even raise my hand to knock. Her hair was in a loose braid, her apron still tied as if she had been baking since dawn. Her sharp eyes went straight to my face, then softened in that way that made you feel six years old again.
“Evan Holliston,” she said, stepping back to let me in. “You look like a man on a mission. Come in before the moths follow you.”
The kitchen smelled of brown sugar, vanilla, and a sense of home that no five-star penthouse could ever replicate. She pointed to the scarred oak table, the same one where I had sat as a boy, hiding from my father’s expectations.
I sat. The wood felt solid under my shaking hands.
I had stood in boardrooms without blinking. Negotiated deals that moved millions with a steady voice and a clear head. But this was different. This wasn’t about winning. This was about offering something I couldn’t take back and hoping she would meet me there.
This was what showing up and stepping up felt like. Now I was here, asking Mabel to help me turn that request into something bigger. Something that would give Nora the one thing she was still afraid to reach for: a wedding that didn’t feel like another storm.
Because I knew her. Knew the way she carried joy like it might be taken from her if she held it too tightly. Knew she would say yes to me in a heartbeat but hesitate at everything that came after. Not because she didn’t want it but because she did.
Without asking, Mabel poured two mugs of steaming chamomile tea. She set one in front of me and took the chair across the table, watching me with the patience of a woman who had seen everything this valley had to throw at her.
I pulled the box from my pocket and set it on the table between us. I didn’t open it. Somehow, keeping the lid closed felt like keeping the secret safe for a few more minutes.
“I’m going to ask Nora to marry me,” I said. The words came out in a low, jagged rasp.
Mabel’s smile was slow and knowing. “I figured that was coming, son. You have been walking around like a man who finally found true north on his compass.”
I exhaled a breath that felt like it had been trapped in my lungs for a decade.
“I want to do it right, Mabel. In front of the people who love her. All of them. Friends, family, even our fathers, if I can manage it. But I am not a fool. There is no way in hell our fathers are going to sit in the same room without one of them ending up in handcuffs.”
“Not big,” I clarified, shaking my head slightly. “Not for show. Just right for her. She deserves to feel safe when she says yes. Not like she is bracing for what comes next.”
Mabel sipped her tea, her eyes twinkling over the rim. She waited. She knew I had a plan; she wanted to hear me say it.
“I need a way to get everyone in one place,” I said, leaning forward.
“Somewhere public enough that it feels like a celebration, but subtle enough that it doesn’t scream proposal until the second I drop to a knee.
I was thinking we fund a town festival. The First Annual Firebrook Valley whatever.
Harvest Glow. Apple Fest. I don’t care. Just something to bring the whole valley out. ”
I rested my hands on the table, framing the ring box. “I want to give her the gift of everyone she loves being in one place when she says yes. She was so sad about Drew and Bella eloping. I want her to have everyone there.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“How do I do it in a way her father can’t ruin? She shouldn’t have to choose between love and peace,” I added quietly. “Can you think of a way to get everyone together without them realizing why they’re there?”
Mabel studied me for a long beat. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to sync up with my heartbeat. Then she reached across and patted my hand, a firm, sealing gesture.
“It is going to take some quiet phone calls,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hum.
“A few white lies about why we’re throwing a festival in September.
But this town knows how to keep a secret when it involves Nora.
We will call it the Harvest Glow. String lights on Main Street, cider, a bonfire by the river.
And the gazebo, we will light that thing up like a wedding cake. ”
“The gazebo,” I repeated. The image hit me with the force of a physical blow. Nora in the soft glow of the lights, the whole town going quiet as I made my claim.
“You get her there,” Mabel said. “I’ll handle the rest.”
Mabel tilted her head slightly, studying me harder now.
“You’re not just planning a proposal,” she said softly. “You’re building her a place to land.”
I didn’t answer right away. Because she was right.
“Do you think we can pull this off?”
Mabel’s smile turned mischievous. “Boy, I’ve kept secrets that would make your hair curl. Your proposal is safe with me.”
I let out a breath. The ring box felt lighter in my pocket as I stood to leave.
I glanced back at the table once more, the place where everything had started for us in ways neither of us had understood at the time.
Funny how the smallest rooms held the biggest turning points.
Even though I’d said I didn’t care what the Harvest Glow would actually be celebrating, the wheels were already turning in my head for ways to use the event to also help the town.
Firebrook Valley needed an income stream that would encourage their next generation to return after college.
Something that they could be proud of and built off the strengths of this community.
If I do this right, we’ll all have something to celebrate.
As I reached the door, she called out to me, “Are we also surprising Nora?”
I called back, “Only if you really can keep a secret.”